Happy Holidays, You Bastard
by newxyorkxloser
Summary: It is eleven at night on Christmas eve, and so far, I've wrapped a grand total of two presents, and downed half a bottle of tequila. Somehow, I feel like this is an accomplishment. Cam oneshot.


i figured i'd do a christmas story. listen to the blink 182 song. it'll make you giggle.

this reminds me a lot of a story i wrote a year ago called you&me. you can take it as a companion if you want. this is really nothing, but i don't have my own computer atm soo.. :/

anyway, happy holidays :)

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It is eleven at night on Christmas eve, and so far, I've wrapped a grand total of two presents, and downed half a bottle of tequila.

Somehow, I feel like this is an accomplishment.

"No wonder we never have money for rent," Carly says, smirking at me from the other side of our beat up old couch. She grins and leans over, poking my cheek, and then pours herself a glass. Not a shot, not a mixer, she fills a god damn water glass with tequila and leans back on the couch and nearly chugs it like it really is water.

"Like you're any better," I tell her, drunkenly pulling tape over some obnoxious christmas wrapping paper. I can't even remember what present this was, or for who. Oh well.

I never really was all that crazy about the holidays anyway.

I turn and glance at her, and she's got her face all scrunched up like she just realized how much tequila she just chugged, and when I laugh at her, she gives me the finger.

"Oh psh, fine, fuck you too," I say, pouting and staring back down at my horribly failed attempt at wrapping presents. And, by extension, actually attempting to celebrate Christmas or whatever holiday we're pretending to have.

"You love me," She says simply, leaning over and resting her head against my shoulder.

"I do," I tell her, kissing the top of her head while she plays with my hair, twisting little bits and pieces around her fingers.

We sit like that for a moment, not saying anything and just smiling dorky little half smiles at each other, and it's honestly sort of sweet and makes me feel all warm at the pit of my stomach, and not just from the tequila.

"Do you realize what classy people we are?" Carly asks, gesturing towards the coffee table. I have to admit, we _are_ pretty classy. I mean, really? Empty bottle of tequila, paper cups, ashtray and pack of cigarettes next to horribly wrapped presents. We're classy. This is so classy.

"I do. I'm actually quite impressed,"

She lays back against the couch, her feet resting on the table, and surveys the mess in front of us and smiles a crooked smile like she's proud of it.

You have to admit, it does take a little bit of skill to be this classy.

Christmas eve spent getting drunk off cheap tequila in a run down apartment with my gorgeous girlfriend. I don't have any complaints, personally.

No, I'm being serious now. I don't have any complaints.

"You're cute, you know that?" She tells me casually, kissing my cheek, and I smile a little bit and shift myself around until I'm facing her, and then I kiss her. It's more of a peck, really, but she smiles back at me, and then her fingers are laced around my hair again and she's pulled me closer to her until it's like my entire world is nothing but her body against mine, her hand tracing circles up and down my thigh and her lips against mine.

She still has that effect on me, where it's like the entire world just stops when somebody kisses you, even after all these years. Even though we're twenty three now and I always assumed that people just stopped having this sort of effect on you once you got to this age.

Maybe it's cheesy or I'm crazy, but it's what I feel.

Even once she's pulled away and I realize that she's on top of me, my back pressed against the couch cushions and she's smiling this drunken smile at me, I still feel like that. I was always sort of scared it might go away as time went on, but it hasn't.

"You are very, very cute," She tells me again, still twisting her fingers through my hair but it's soft again as her eyelids droop and she wraps her legs around mine and rests her head between my neck and my shoulder and I can feel her breath tickling my chest and blowing little strands of hair away.

I smile at her, and I never really used to smile this much when I was younger, but I can't help it now, and kiss the top of her head again.

Sure, we're poor, and sure, I never finished wrapping those presents, and sure, we drank all my damn tequila, but fuck, I love that girl.


End file.
